Maybe it was lost
by Mildly Rabid
Summary: On Earth, God was a curse word that didn't exist. But now that he's seen for himself, Jake wonders what Eywa is like. So he listens in while Neytiri tells the kids some oral history. Christianity/Eywa tie-in, Pandora is still before Christ.
1. Introduction

**Author's Note:** Here's a new and improved first chapter! And remember: please review the writing, not the religion. No matter how self-edifying it may be to go on some long rant about Christianity, the point of reviewing is to help me become a better writer. If you'd like to comment on Christianity, PM me; I'd be more than happy to discuss it with you. Thank you! :)

* * *

A cool western breeze swept through the leaves of the massive tree and settled gently down to the forest floor. Its path was different from the one that Neytiri had grown up with, and her bandage-weaving was interrupted for a moment before she remembered where she was.

The new _kelutrel_ was smaller than the old one, though the People were glad that they didn't have to relocate extremely far. Three days after the humans had left, the Omaticaya were scrambling to put life back in order after so many deaths and the loss of their home. At the same time, their _Olo'eyktan_ was trying to put his mind back in order after the whirlwind that was the past few days. Now was a rare moment of stillness in which he could let his overworked brain rest.

His mind glided over to Grace as she had lain at the foot of _Vitrautral_, its green glowing roots attached to her frail body. He heard once more the haunting words she had whispered to him as she drew her last breath. _"I see Her, Jake. She's real." _

It was true. Eywa wasn't just some made-up deity to worship, or some biological supercomputer. She was more than that; she was real. This solid fact upset all the mental models he'd grown up with, and just thinking about the implications left his head reeling. Groping for a foothold, Jake found Neytiri, hoping she could answer his questions.

"Do you have a minute?"

Seeing the puzzled, tired expression on his face, his mate looked up at him concernedly. "What is it, _ma'Jake_?"

"I'm confused."

She smiled at his redundancy. _That's pretty obvious_.

He missed the humor and started speaking, his words tumbling over each other. "Where I came from, no one believed in anything like Eywa. They said it was all made up. But now that I know she exists, I need to sort things out. Can I ask you some questions?"

"_Srane._ What are your questions?"

"Well, the biggest one probably is, if Eywa protects the balance of life, why couldn't she have just made the world balanced to begin with? Why is something always going out of whack? Why is there evil?"

Neytiri inhaled through her teeth, trying to decide where to start. "It was perfect in the _sngä'ikrr_, when Eywa made the world and chose to live in it. You ask why is there _tìkawng_? Because the first man and woman rebelled against her, wanting to be in charge. And ever since that first imbalance, the _kifkey _has had problems." She shrugged as if this explanation was nothing out of the ordinary, but it was all new to her mate.

"One more thing—What about where I came from? I remember hearing in school that there used to be some myths about some sort of god. Was Eywa there? They killed almost everything; did that kill her?" His eyebrows were lightly pressed together as he contemplated all the what-ifs.

His _muntxate _paused for a brief moment, eyes looking down as if tasting the concepts. Then she looked him in the eye. "I do not have much wisdom, but I can give you a straight answer as to the way I see it. On _'Rrta_, Eywa was there, perhaps by a different name. When the _aytawtute_ destroyed the landscape, they had no reminder of her, no connection with her younger children. Since they were in their buildings all the time, they could have forgotten. Maybe it was lost…"


	2. The First Evil

**A/N: **Kudos to all who were interested in the concept presented in chapter one and are continuing on to chapter two. Also, fuzzy feelings emanate from me to my beta: JESUSFREAK-And-Proud-Of-It. She isn't an Avatar fanatic; more like writing coach and a guinea pig to see if my use of na'vi words is understandable. :)

* * *

A drop of dew slid off a leaf and fell on the shoulder of Mo'at, causing her to glance up at the canopy of the new hometree, where the morning sun was peeking through the leaves and leaving a soft light on the world below. The _Tsa'hik_ had gone up to one of the higher branches, and had watched the rising of Alpha Centauri. Now, she meditated and embraced the stillness that would soon disappear as the forest awoke.

Eywa's world was so beautiful. She had been captivated by it since she was a child, when Eytukan had always tried to follow her, curious about what she could be doing up there. A nostalgic smile crept up her lips, fringed with sadness. She missed her mate more than words could describe.

He'd be proud of their daughter now. Neytiri was finishing the last few weeks of her training as Tsa'hik as she practiced herbal remedies with the healers and memorized all the tribal rituals and songs. In addition this, she went hunting whenever the chance arose; Neytiri was not one for staying put at the new _kelutrel_.

Such was the case this morning, as she got some fruit for breakfast and brought her knife out to sharpen, as well as her sharpening stone: a smooth rock from the riverbed. Beyral walked over, a spring in her step. "I see you, sister," she greeted.

"_Oel ngati kameie_," Neytiri replied.

"The scouts have found an overpopulation of yerik," she said as she sat down beside her, her own knife in hand. She smiled. "I knew you'd be joining the hunting party."

Neytiri added, "Especially since it is _yerik_. Hexapede venison has a better flavor than sturmbeest, and takes more stealth to catch."

"But it provides less meat. Still, I agree; _yerik_ is more fun."

Beyral ate her bread and Neytiri her fruit, but soon Neytiri was accosted by some small children asking for a story. She was rather busy, but seeing their _nantang_-cub eyes and hearing their incessant pleadings of "_Ruxte_?" made her cave in.

"Alright. I'll tell you a story, but only after I get my bow and arrows together, and it can't be too long, because the hunting party leaves in an hour." That seemed agreeable to them, so they sat on the ground, tails tapping impatiently.

Jake came out of his alcove grumbling under his breath; some messengers from the Ikran Clan had arrived last night and he had to greet them in his ceremonial attire as _Olo'eyktan_. Ceremonial attire bugged him, but as he saw the crowd and his mate sitting to tell them a story, he smiled. Neytiri was good with kids. Mo'at had prescribed storytelling as part of her training, because in her words, "What better way to practice communicating Eywa's truth than to tell her Story to a small child?"

Her Story: that's what the na'vi called their oral histories and songs, and since it was never written down you couldn't always tell how much was fact and how much was myth. An idea occurred to Jake: what if history was really His-story? History, herstory, it didn't really matter to him; any na'vi could tell you a spirit isn't characterized by physicality, in other words it's not male or female.

That was only one of the many things he had learned from these people. _I really was insane at first, huh? Thinking of nature as separate from myself, when I was really part of it. Never believing in God as real, only as a myth or a curse word. On earth, they have it all wrong and don't even know it._

So Neytiri was going to tell the kids a story. Jake was interested; he needed to brush up on his oral history—er—herstory. He sat down about three feet away and began eating breakfast. His mate crossed her legs under her and closed her _menari_ to the keep the twenty small staring eyes of the children from distracting her as she gathered her thoughts.

The children almost visibly tingled with anticipation—Neytiri was the best storyteller among the Omaticaya, at least when it came to holding a child's interest. A little boy about five years old could not keep still as he squirmed around and tapped his tail on the ground in impatience. In an instant, all the noise stopped as she opened her eyes again and began:

"I will tell you about the first evil. After Eywa made the world, it was in a perfect balance, with all creatures connected to her and to each other in a much deeper way than _tsaheylu_. None of the creatures killed each other, but none of them had children, either. Everything, from the smallest _teylu_ grub to the great _toruk_, ate plants.

"The first people, a man named 'Itan and a woman named 'Ite would walk in the forest every day with Eywa. She was in everything, of course, but also took on a visible form for the benefit of her children, since it is easier to get to know someone that you can see. Some say Eywa's presence beside them looked like a mist, others say like a light brighter than a thousand suns. It was beautiful.

"Also in the forest was a certain _palulukan_ who so cunning and clever, he had taught himself to speak. But he was also a _skxawng_ because he thought he could become greater than Eywa."

At this, the youngest children, who had not heard the story, looked at each other in disbelief. Older children shook their heads, raised their hands in exasperation, or laughed outright at the idea. How absurd! No one could be greater than Eywa!

Neytiri continued: "Yes, it was very silly indeed, but nevertheless, the _palulukan_ wanted to be greater than the All-mother. This was the first _kawng_ thing ever done or thought, for a war against Eywa is a war against the source of all good. The evil _palulukan_ decided to gain allies. He lay in wait by the hedge that marked the boundary of the forbidden area of the forest, and waited for the 'Itan and 'Ite to walk by.

"When they did, he greeted them. 'How strange,' they thought. 'A _palulukan_ that talks!' But they were not suspicious, since they knew no evil.

"The sneaky _palulukan_ asked them, 'Did Eywa really say you couldn't go anywhere you wished?'

"'Itan replied, 'Eywa said we could go anywhere, but this part of the _na'ring_ is forbidden, and we will die if we enter it.'

"'Why should you trust Eywa?' asked the _palulukan_. 'You will not die. No, that part of the forest is wonderful and beautiful. There is a stream inside, and if you drink from it, the water will make you powerful, like Eywa herself.'

"The _palulukan_ was lying to them, but he had planted doubt in their mind. 'Ite told 'Itan, 'What if the _palulukan_ is right? Eywa is lying to us!'

"'Itan agreed. They stepped into the _kxanì_ forest and drank from the stream. At that moment, their eyes were opened and they saw the difference between good and evil. They saw that they had done evil and felt guilty for not trusting Eywa.

"In their shame, they tried to hide from Eywa, but they could not. Her visible presence passed by them as it usually did when they would start to walk through the forest together. 'Why are you hiding?' she asked them.

"With a nervous look on his face, 'Itan said, 'I wasn't hiding; I was just—um—enjoying the shade!'

"'Ite agreed. 'Yes! That's what we're doing!' she said.

"Now children, do not try to lie to Eywa, because she knows everything, just as she knew all that had happened with 'Itan and 'Ite. The All-mother simply replied, 'You cannot be resting if you are always moving to keep on the other side of the tree from me. Have you done what I had told you not to?'

"'Itan pointed at his wife and blurted out, 'It was her idea! 'Ite wanted to go in the forbidden place!'

"'Ite said, 'It was the _palulukan_ that told us to!'

"First disobedience, next lying, and now blaming each other? Eywa was grieved by her children's actions, and her sadness filled the very air around them. She told them, 'I am wounded because you have not trusted me, my children. You knew that if you entered the _kxanì __na'ring _you would die. And this will be your punishment: you will no longer live forever. The animals will be frightened of you and the ground will make thorns for you. You must work to find food, and when you have children, it will be painful. But I will still be with you, even as your pride upsets the world's balance. And as for you, _palulukan_: your race will not be revered like that of _toruk_;_ y_ou have brought shame upon your kind, and they will be at odds with the na'vi. And you specifically, trickster, are hereby banished from this body; your _tirea _will roam the land until I separate the good from the bad and you are thrown in the garbage, forever without anything _sìltsan_ around you.'

"So, children, that is how the first evil came to be, and now you know why our younger brothers, the thanators, do not get songs or dances like the great _toruk_. From this story we learn that we must always trust Eywa; rebelling against her will is rebelling against good. Whenever the Trickster tries to whisper into your ear, remember the All-mother's way is best."


	3. The Time of the First Songs

**A/N:** I love you, JFAPOI! You're a great friend! Just a shout-out... Oh, and just FYI, while the puffball tree is a real plant harvested for its salty leaves, I made up the part about it tasting bad with fruit.

* * *

The bioluminescent forest glowed in magnificent pinks, blues, and greens just outside of the new hometree while Jake sat near a cooking fire. Even though he was _Olo'eyktan_ he was still getting used to what he called the "sunset effect" on his skin; the reflection of yellow orange firelight against the dark grayish blue of his arm at dusk.

He could smell the _yerik_ (or hexapede, as the humans called it) that the hunters had caught earlier that day being roasted with herbs for a savory main course. Meanwhile, fruits were sliced into small cubes for a side dish, and fresh bread, made mostly from ground-up _pxiwll_ seeds, was baking. Cooking wasn't a job only for women, just as hunting wasn't a job only for men. In na'vi culture, everyone did their part, and anyone who hadn't gone with the hunting party was fair game for enlistment to the meal preparation team.

Weaving, however, was mostly women's work, so he was not excited when his mate thrust a partially woven basket into his hands. He opened his mouth to protest, but before he could speak, Neytiri interrupted.

"Finish this," she commanded.

"What if I don't want to?"

"You must practice if you wish to have this skill. If you ever find yourself lost or on a hunting trip alone, you will need a basic knowledge of how to make things for yourself."

Jake's large, rough hands reluctantly worked the reeds, but nature of the design meant his pinky finger kept getting in the way as he passed his clumsy fingers through the basket as part of the weaving. He could picture how Tsu'tey would answer his unspoken complaint right about now: "Five fingers isn't bad, at least not for you, Jakesully. You're such a _skxawng_ that you'll probably get one bitten off and need an extra!"

_Tsu'tey._ Jake wished there had been more time before the battle so he could to get to know Tsu'tey as a brother, not as a threat to his betrothed. He was a natural-born leader with a sharp, funny, and slightly cocky personality that was an asset if you were on his good side. _Too late now. _Jake sighed._ Oh, well._ He refocused his attention on the scene beside him.

Neytiri sat down a few feet from him at the base of a small root-column in the _kelutrel_. In a few moments, the children from early that morning sensed her presence and came, along with some friends, asking for another story. "The first one ended all sad," explained a seven-year-old. "We want to know what happens next."

"I suppose you're right, _'evi_. But don't go working me so hard every day, or my voice will go out!" she chided playfully with a grin.

"Here the next part of our story: the time of the first songs. Long ago, after the earth was made, and after the first great sorrow had come, the first man and woman were living in the forest. Can anyone tell me the names Eywa had given them?"

A chubby-cheeked 4-year-old girl shouted, "The man was 'Itan!"

"And what was the woman's name?" Neytiri encouraged.

"'Ite!" they chorused.

"Now, 'Itan and 'Ite were quite sad after their connection with Eywa was made imperfect. The world was like what happens when you eat fruit with leaves from the _rumut_ (puffball tree). It doesn't taste sweet and salty, does it?"

"No!" the kids all shouted knowingly. The chemical reaction between the plants created a flavor that was revolting.

"The world was like that. After the balance was upset, it changed everything so dramatically that it could not be fixed. The creatures started killing each other, and now they ate meat. But Eywa granted them offspring so that they would not die out.

"'Itan and 'Ite were especially sad because the Trickster was always whispering in their ears, and they were easily tricked into doing things their true _metirea_ did not want to do. It seemed each of them had two selves, one _sìltsan_ and one_ kawng_. They cried out for Eywa to ease their sorrow.

"Eywa heard her children and decided to act. At the Sacred Tree she spoke to them and promised them that one day the world would be restored. Until then, they were to form a new balance: to balance death with life and seek her will. That is why the people maintain the balance of the forest, keeping populations in check and taking only what we need.

"Eywa gave 'Itan and 'Ite a son, a cute little baby boy, and the woman named him Lrrtok, saying, 'Eywa has made me smile again.' A new generation and Eywa's promise had given 'Ite hope for the future. Her _tirea_ soared like an _ikran _in indescribable joy. She wanted to say something, to express this joy, but it came out as a noise, as a groan, that formed a song. It was a new discovery; the first song! And 'Itan and 'Ite sang many songs, in their joy, for Eywa had not forgotten them. She was still their loving mother."

Neytiri bowed her head, signifying the end. The children had heard their story, and the _yerik_ was done cooking. Tails swishing, they chattered to each other as they went happily off to help serve the meal and get their share.

Jake stayed behind. He got up, handed the finished basket to his mate, and they walked off, tails intertwined, to the unfolding scene at the cooking fires. "_Irayo_ for the story. You always tell it so well for the children," said Jake. "Y'know what?" he remarked, switching to English. "I think you'll make a great _Tsa'hik._"


	4. The First Murder

A few nights later, Jake slipped away from a boring conversation with the senior hunters, and sat down in the shadowy enclave of a root. It was just far enough from the circle he had been in that no one would realize his departure. He sunk deeper into the shadow so that if people saw him, they would think he was just getting some alone time. For some reason, no one believed the marine's pretext of "admiring cute kids" when he watched Neytiri tell stories. Maybe that was because he was curious about the history and legends, and everyone knew it. He shifted his gaze to the eight children ages four to six that were sleepily eying Neytiri, who was about to begin her story.

"It's got scary parts, and a murder."

The little boys' eyes lit up.

"But it also gives us insights on how to live." She looked intently at the ground beside her intently as she decided how to begin and waited for the children to quiet down. "The storytellers from the Ikran Clan of the Eastern Sea say that the two brothers in the story were the grandchildren of 'Itan and 'Ite. Those of the Horse Clan say that they were their great-grandchildren. The Tipani Clan says that they were father and son. But let me tell the story to you the way the Omaticaya tell it.

"Lrrtok had a younger brother named Keltsun. You may wonder why his name meant impossible. This was because 'Ite was very sick when she had him, and afraid for the child's life, but Eywa had done the impossible in saving him.

"Anyway, let's get back to the story. Lrrtok was a _txantur_ hunter. He had great skill in whatever he did. But he always left the best animals for Eywa, so that they could breed and produce better stock, or feed his younger brothers, the _aypalulukan_ or _ayikranay_. Before every hunt, he asked Eywa to let him pick the right animal to eat, and afterwards he always thanked her for her provision."

The kids nodded approvingly at Lrrtok's behavior, though some were a bit surprised at the over-and-above extent of his respect for Eywa's gifts.

"But his brother Keltsun took all the nicest things for himself. He did not thank Eywa after a hunt, because he thought it was all due to his own talent. The thought never crossed his mind that his talent came from Eywa, too." She leaned forward. "Keltsun had so many adornments that he wouldn't be able to move if he wore them all at once!"

At this, the kids burst out laughing. One of the more squirrelly boys (being so tired that he was hyper) ran around in a penguin walk, his stiff arms and legs covered by invisible bracelets and feathers.

Neytiri resumed, "Eywa was sick of his pride, and made him search far and wide for even simple things like berries, hoping that he would eventually humble himself and pray for her help. But Keltsun did not pray to Eywa. Instead, he thought she was being unfair by blessing all that Lrrtok did and not blessing what he did. He was very jealous. So one day, when his brother was least expecting it, he stabbed him in the back and killed him!

"After he did the horrible deed, he heard a whisper in the wind. 'Keltsun…where is Lrrtok?' Keltsun tried to lie to Eywa. 'I don't know,' he ventured. But you can't fool the All-Knowing Mother, can you? Eywa spoke from out of a blinding light to Keltsun. 'Your brother's blood stains my ground. Why did you never turn to me when you had the chance? Why did you never realize that I give talent? Why are you so prideful? You have chosen your path, and must be punished.' Eywa disappeared, and in her place, a shadow—_toruk _was swooping out of the sky towards him!" At this point, Neytiri stopped. "Now what do you think _toruk_ did to Keltsun?"

The same six year old who had done the impersonation exclaimed, "He ate him!"

"No, he did not. Do you have any other ideas?"

No one could think of much more. A four year old girl just stared up in a scared anticipation.

"Toruk severed his _tswin_."

Shocked children touched their own queues instinctively, as if protecting them from _toruk_'s jaws. To have your neural strands severed would mean that you could never make _tsaheylu_ with any animal, or your mate. You could never directly tell Eywa your thoughts through one of the sacred trees. It was a fate worse than death.

Neytiri gave a sigh, and concluded, "This is how the first murder happened, and why the People give the same punishment for murderers today. But the most important thing that we learn from this part of our history is that we ought to avoid jealousy and let Eywa direct our paths. Be grateful for what she has given you." She smiled and nodded her head, signifying the end of the story. The children disbanded and she walked over to depression in the root Jake was sitting in.

"I saw you the whole time," she said in English.

"Yeah," he said, giving her a kiss. "You Saw who I truly was before I was even aware of it." He sighed, and then gave her another kiss. "But let's not get too sentimental."

Neytiri laughed. "No, _skxawng_. I saw you hiding here the whole time."


End file.
